Silent Screams
by JaffaCake13
Summary: Another alternate ending for when Bryn, Alda and Jerome beat up Will. T for violence and major character death.
1. Chapter 1

NB: I have only read the Ruins of Gorlan once, and that was finished all of yesterday... this may not be too great and its only my second fanfic, if I'm out of character, please tell me, oh, and if it weren't for one certain person (valentine142...) I would have read the Burning Bridge too, but no. Oh, and for all lovers of Will (including myself) watch out, because this is a really sad/mean story from Will's point of view... But here goes any way...

Will was in the small clearing in the forest, just behind Halt's cottage. He was practising shooting at different four different targets, aiming in different directions, at different heights; never letting two arrows hit the same target twice in a row. Halt had told him to fire each arrow in no more than 5 seconds, just before he had left for Castle Redmont.

Just as he emptied his quiver for the tenth time that morning, Will heard footsteps in the distance, coming his way. His Ranger training told him that there were three people, boys probably, coming towards him. As the figures came into view Will recognised their bright red coats as those of second year Battleschool apprentices.

The tall, well built blonde in the middle, stepped forwards, "Hello," said Will, "What can I do for you?"

"We're here on Battleschool business," said the blonde boy.

"Well, I'm afraid Halt's out on business right now; I can take a message for him if you want."

"No, we don't need to leave a message for Halt, it's not him we came to speak to, we want to talk to you."

"Yeh, it's you we've got a problem with, not the Ranger." This time it was ginger boy.

Will was confused, he'd never even seen these boys before, and somehow, they thought he had done some sort of misdeed!

Suddenly, Will noticed the tall blonde start to step forward, lifting the hessian sack he had folded over his arm. Sensing the attack, will surprised the boy by leaping forward, somersaulting in the air, and swiping his feet around, kicking the feet out from under the older boy. Surprised, Alda fell to meet the hard ground, stunned by the speed and agility of the young boy before him. He was truly angry now, before, he had just been out on a walk with his friends, searching for the little brat, but now, he was determined to teach him a lesson he would never forget.

Will landed rolling out of his leap, trying to cushion himself from the fall. He may have been able to hold off the first attack, but there were 3 attackers and only one of him, he still had no arrows, and as Halt had told him before _try not to kill the enemy, it might turn out to be more useful to have them alive and helpful, than dead and useless..._ Will was just starting to stand when the first blow hit, the impact from the long wooden cane across his shoulders was enough to send Will sprawling on the floor, face first and defenceless.

Then came a solid stream of blows across his shoulders, back and head. By this time, the other 2 Battleschool apprentices had joined the ginger boy, the blonde eager for revenge of being floored by a boy at least 2 heads shorter than him, and much weaker.

Eventually, Will managed to roll himself over, putting himself in a better position to defend himself. Despite his hardest efforts, Will could not defend himself from the continuous onslaught of blows. His vision was starting to grey at the edges, and the welcoming darkness came to consume him, slowly at first, and then rushing in to meet him.

How is it? Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it's been so long, but I've got this Friday off school, so I should get a chapter or 2 (hopefully .) done then. R&R please **

The first thing Will knew was pain. A deep throbbing pain, rising from his legs to his head, he could still taste the remnants of the blood from his multiple head injuries. He heard voices and he decided it was time to open his eyes. Will wrenched his eyes open to the sight of a hessian bag. He strained his ears in an effort to hear what the voices were saying, trying to pick up any clue as to where he might be.

"Come on Baby... Get up Baby... No, not like that... Now count to one thousand... Now, let's see how Baby's little Ranger wannabe friend is doing... Not that Baby could ever make a friend..."

Will realised with a start that the voices were coming towards him. They were coming to check up on him. The heavy hessian sack was removed from his head and Will squinted in the sunlight. Judging by the position of the sun, he was going to be murdered by Halt when he got back to the cabin. He could see that he was still in the forest, sitting up against a tree facing Horace. The young warrior apprentice was hanging by his arms, battered and bruised, and being subjected to even more harm. This wasn't right.

"So, you're awake now are you?" Alda, the tall blonde second year apprentice sneered.

Will just looked at the leering figure. This turned out to be a bad idea, and Will realised just too late, he had left it for too long, and now he regretted staying quiet. The warrior apprentice's hard leather boots struck Will's ribs with tremendous force, making Will grunt.

"Ahhh, Ranger boy's trying to be a big brave boy!" The patronising comment came from Jerome. This made Will angry. He tried to stand, but he was pushed back down as the pain of his former beating set in again, and Bryn held him down.

"Look, he's so small he can't even stand up by himself!"This was the final straw for Will, with an almighty effort; Will rose from his position on the floor, and spat at the taller boy in front of him. Again, this was a bad move, but Will was in pain, delirious from the effort of standing, and could not have cared less at the moment. Horace, on the other hand, was trying desperately not to interrupt and distract the older boys from Will for a minute. Unfortunately, with the effort of holding himself up above the ground, with just a branch for support, he had lost a little too much of his self control, and had had to let go to refrain from speaking. He came crashing down in a heap on the floor, distracting the bullies from his friend. Horace had not planned it to go quite this way when he had applied for battle school, but life never did go according to plan.

Alda heard the thump, and with a quick swipe at Will, a forceful blow to the head that sent the bound apprentice sprawling on the floor, he turned to face the talented warrior apprentice.

"I thought we told you to count to one thousand before you let yourself down. I don't remember telling you to come down when you got tired, do you Bryn? Jerome?"

"No, I don't remember you saying that."

"Nor do I, but I certainly remember that we are busy right now, and we don't like being interrupted."

"And Baby just interrupted us! So Baby must learn his lesson, why don't we teach them both lessons? That way they will both learn."

The three older boys were advancing on Horace, who lay on the floor, groaning slightly with the ache of his tired muscles. Will wasn't sure whether or not he was ever going to make it back home or not, but eventually, he knew, Halt would come looking for him. He thought it must be around four o'clock now, he had to start cooking supper soon, and he had no idea where he was, due to his former lack of consciousness. In the distance, he could hear a faint thrumming sound, his groggy head wouldn't allow him access to the memory the sound encased, but he had a sudden rush of hope as the slush in his mind cleared away enough for him to realise it was a horse; small and agile, by the sounds of it, most likely a Ranger horse. He would be saved.

This thought gave him new-found strength, and Will was able to sit up a little. No longer sprawled in the dirt, Will could see Horace fighting with his final reserves of strength, trying desperately not to be bound like Will. But there were three of them, and only one Horace, he was fighting a losing battle.

Will could hear the thrumming louder now; it was coming fast, probably a steady gallop by the sounds of things. It was heading for him, Will could tell. He desperately hoped Halt had found him, he and Horace were both clearly in need of medical attention, and the Halt could be his only chance.

Will craned his neck to get a better view of the break in the trees where the horse was coming from, desperate to see Halt on Abelard, ready to take him home. The horse rounded the final bend, and it appeared through the trees, sliding to a stop in the middle of the clearing. Will was so relieved, for there, standing in the middle of the clearing was...

**Cliff hanger time! Yay! R&R please, sorry its quite short, but I needed a good place to stop, and I didn't want to drag it out, so there you go, hopefully, the next chapter will be out on Friday or Saturday, but I have 2 essays due in soon, so I might not get it done that soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Again, sorry about the lateness of the updating, but stupid school is giving us far too much homework again! But hey, here it is, its relatively long for me, so enjoy **

Chapter 3

Will looked to the centre of the small clearing; and to his utter bewilderment, he saw a tall man in a grey and green mottled cloak, sitting atop a small horse. This man was most certainly a Ranger, but he was just as surely not Halt. This strange Ranger was not only much taller than Halt, but in addition to the more traditional Ranger knives and long bow, he carried a long sword on his horse.

The quite pattering of the horse's hooves along the forest floor had been heard by the thuggish warrior apprentices; they turned away from their tormenting and studied the tall rider. The Ranger looked down at them with authority in his eyes, and they reluctantly stepped back from Horace. The rider uncloaked his face, and the bullies regained some of their courage, realising that this man could only be 19 years old. Although he was well built and tall, he was only a few years older than them, and he had obviously not gone to Battle school. As the rider dismounted, Alda stepped forward, a sneer on his face.

"What do you want?" The sneer was clear in his voice, and Will could see that the Ranger did not like this.

"I believe that I want you to wipe that sneer off your face, and address me properly." The young apprentice warrior had clearly never met a Ranger before. Will knew that these boys obviously just wanted to pick a fight, and the Ranger could see that too.

"What if I don't want to?" The snide reply was evidently not welcomed by the Ranger, and Will saw the anger flash in his eyes just before it could be hidden by the dangerous smile now appearing on the mysterious Ranger's face.

"Well, if you really want, you can keep talking to me like that, and I can pick you up, and take you to see the baron. Now, I know Baron Arald, and I don't think he would be all too pleased to hear about this."

The defiant young apprentice still thought he could easily match this strange new Ranger if it came to it, and, quite stupidly, he continued to disrespect the Ranger.

"I don't think you **can **take me to see the baron. I don't think you'd dare."

"Oh, but I can, and I can also get you expelled from your silly little Battle school too."

Disbelief now entered the thugs mind. "No you can't, only Sir Rodney can decide who stays and who goes! There's no way he'll kick us out over one silly little scuffle with you." The young boy now started to advance and, taking full advantage of the young boy's idiocy and ignorance. The Ranger set the apprentice a challenge.

"I have a proposal, if you can ride my horse for 3 laps of this clearing; I will let you go just this once." The ignorant apprentice warrior new that there was no way he could lose. It was too easy, and somewhere in the back of his mind, the last shred of his common sense whispered only to be overthrown by the brutish instincts dominating Alda's mind, and the thug accepted the challenge.

Of course thing started off reasonably well, the tall warrior had no problem mounting the small horse. But as soon as he settled, Will noticed the strong back legs of the stout pony tense and then its small strong back arched and twisted, sending Alda flying face first into the mud. He got angrily back up to try again, only to be thrown off once more. The process was repeated, until, mad and humiliated; Alda went to beat the Ranger's horse.

"Stupid horse!"Alda screamed and brought his long wooden cane around in a backhand blow, aiming for the horses legs, trying to cripple it. The horse sidestepped the blow, knocking the boy off his balance, and the Ranger stepped in front of the stupid boy.

"Never do that to Blaze. No one in their right mind, not even the King himself, would ever do that to a Ranger horse." The menace in his voice startled them all, no one had expected the young Ranger to change his mood so suddenly, but Will had been guessing at his guise for quite a while, and recovered first.

"Now, help that boy up, and untie him, I am a very busy man, and I don't have time to waste talking to you about what I can and cannot do. Oh, and I'll be having serious words with Sir Rodney, and I'm sure he won't be too thrilled about you lot bullying younger students."

The second year warrior apprentices helped Horace to his feet, and with a final dig in the ribs, untied Will. He supported himself and thanked the kind Ranger.

"You're welcome; by the way, my name is Gilan."

**So there you have it, chapter 3. R&R please **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, sorry, I know I said I would update soon, but as it is, I kind of delayed the writing of an important essay until it's too late... but it should be a long one this time **** Enjoy!**

Halt had spent the afternoon at the castle with Baron Arald, discussing his apprenticeship with Will. He had left Will practising his archery, and told him to have supper ready for when he got back.

As he led Abelard up to the cabin, Halt was shocked not to see the warm glow of the main fire through the windows of the cabin, and there was an unusual absence of the familiar curl of smoke coming from the small chimney. Halt stepped inside and was perplexed by the total silence that greeted him. He called for Will, wondering if his young apprentice had driven himself to exhaustion and gone to bed early. He checked Will's room and was met with yet more silence; not a breath was to be heard and, on closer inspection, it could be seen that the bed was still made, unmoved since the morning.

Halt was hit with a brainwave. Will must still be outside, practising with his bow. Halt smiled secretly, impressed with Will's perseverance, and set off for the clearing in which he had left Will, so many hours ago.

He was taken aback when all he found in the clearing was a full quiver of arrows emptied into the targets and Will's precious re-curve bow snapped cleanly in two. Halt wondered if Will had finally had enough of his tough training regimes and incessant grumpiness, and left for a life on the farm.

But Will had seemed so happy learning the ways of the Rangers. Things didn't seem right, and just as Halt turned back to the cabin, a small scuff in the corner of the clearing caught his eye, and he resolved to look for his apprentice. He called Abelard and set off, all thoughts of supper gone, his promise to Daniel the only thing in his mind.

The journey back to the cabin was long, Will hadn't realised just how far the Battle school thugs had taken him. He was still slightly dazed, but he was awake enough to talk to Gilan, the tall, young Ranger that had saved his life.

Will was disturbed from his thoughts when Gilan cursed, seeing a danger in the trees that Will was too dazed to notice. Seconds later, Gilan had an arrow noched in his longbow, trying to establish a target.

He could tell that the enemy was moving forward, and he knew they were aware of their presence, but he had no idea where in front of them they were. He moved into cover, and took aim at a spot he thought the enemy might be. He fired, and just as Gilan's arrow disappeared into the trees with a loud thud, as it sank into a tree, 50m away; an arrow flew towards them and a loud curse came from the trees as Will groaned and sank to the floor, bleeding through the hole in his forearm, where the arrow had penetrated. Gilan rushed to his side, trying to keep the apprentice conscious, Horace supporting his former Ward mate.

Horace was the only one surprised at Halt's emergence from the trees ahead, Will was in too much pain, and Gilan had recognised the fletching of the arrow in Will's arm, and knew the curse from previous meetings with Halt.

Halt marched into the clearing, angry at being shot at and, as soon as he saw Will's mask of sheer unbearable agony, and the fading colour in his cheeks, he rushed over, quickly pulling the long arrow the rest of the way through Will's arm, receiving a groan and tears, spilling over Will's eyes, as the pain intensified. Halt quickly tied a makeshift bandage around Will's limp arm, in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

The pain of the swift extraction of Halt's arrow had been too much for Will, and soon, he was a dead weight for the 3 of them to carry the short distance back to the cabin.

Will woke late the next afternoon, and in a daze of sleep-driven confusion and mild amnesia, tried to jump out of bed, realising that he had slept away half the day. A strong hand stopped him, just before he propped himself up on his injured arm, almost reopening his wound. Even so, Will felt a strong twinge of pain and groaned as he flopped back down, the events of the previous day flooding back to him in a sea of pain.

Halt had been relying on Gilan's uncanny coffee making skills to keep him awake through the night while he waited for Will to wake up. It had been a hard night, full of coffee, stew and bandages, but Halt had made it through. He thought that if Will could survive a fully-drawn longbow shot in the arm, and a beating, then Halt could survive with no sleep for one night. After all, he did deserve it, given that he had been the one to shoot the poor boy.

Halt handed Will a cup of Gilan's fresh coffee, with added honey for Will, and he quickly drank up, gaining some of the strength his injuries had taken from him.

"Who shot me?" Will asked, curious to know the full details of the previous evening.

"Um..." Halt wasn't sure how to explain. "Well it may or may not have been me..."

This obviously didn't register with Will because he just kept asking questions.

"Who's Gilan? And why is he here?" Hearing the voices, Gilan had wondered in, wanting to know how Halt's new apprentice was.

"I used to be Halt's apprentice. And I'm here because I have been sent by Crowley, on important business that is strictly need to know." Gilan answered for Halt, glad to see the boy awake.

The following days continued in much the same way as Will recovered, and got used to his sling, and Halt made him a new bow.

Horace had been staying at the Rangers' cabin sleeping on one of the small chairs in the main room. He had been taken back to Battle school after a few days, and Gilan had explained what had happened to Sir Rodney.

The following days had been boring and monotonous for Horace, spending the majority of his time in the infirmary, waiting for his cracked ribs and multiple minor injuries to heal.

He had been told that Jerome, Bryn and Alda had been put on probation for the rest of term, but Horace knew that his torment was far from over.

"Right then, let's go."

Halt, Will and Gilan were on their way to the Gathering, where Will would face his first assessment. If he failed this, he knew he would face another year of apprenticeship with Halt before he got another opportunity to be better accepted into the Ranger Corps.

They had set off straight after breakfast, eager to be there before supper. It was now just after lunchtime, and Will was getting irritable because of his sling, not being able to use one arm was taking its toll.

"When will we get there?" Will asked for the 18th time.

"Later." Halt answered for the 18th time. Deciding that he owed it to the boy, given that he had shot him.

"Where are we going?" And again Halt replied, losing his patience now.

"You'll see when we get there. We're almost there now."

And indeed they were. The 3 Rangers soon trotted into a large clearing, packed with tents, and a large tent in the centre.

"Will go and find a decent spot and help Gilan set up camp, I'll see to the horses."

Will and Gilan quickly set off, finding a nice large space in the middle of a row of about 20 tents. Gilan set up camp with Will helping him as much as his injuries would allow, and soon, they were ready to start preparing supper.

"Crowley!" For once there was almost a trace of a smile in Halt's voice as he approached the head of the Ranger Corps.

"Halt! How are you? How's the apprentice doing? How are you coping?" The two men shook hands and started to catch up, walking away from the busy main tent. Soon, Crowley had to get back to organising the events, and Halt thought that supper should be ready by now, and the 2 Rangers went their separate ways.

Horace walked out of the cantine, and headed for the small wooded glade he knew so well. He often went there in his free time, whenever he needed some peace and quiet by himself. He sat down against a tree, and thought about his time at Battle school so far, how much he had learnt.

He was just getting up to leave, and spend the rest of his evening in the dorms, when a figure stepped into view.

**I'm not sure how it's gonna go with Horace, so don't even think about asking, I'll think of it later, and all will become clear **** I'm quite pleased with this bit, and it's the longest so far by quite a way, so thats good. At last, a break from essay writing! :P I hope you've enjoyed it too.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ok, I know its been kinda nearly 3 months... but hey, for all you who still want to know what happens, here you go **

Horace settled into a defensive stance as Bryn half stepped into the light. He prepared for the taunts and blows he was sure would come soon. Horace was slightly taken aback when they didn't come; and all he heard from the other boy was a quiet, subdued sobbing.

"Bryn?" Horace asked tentatively. "Bryn, are you okay?"

Finally, Bryn gave up trying to hold back his sobs when Horace stepped hesitantly forwards. He collapsed against Horace, unable to support himself through the sobs. Horace pulled Bryn down to sit back under his tree. Not wanting to force answers out of him, Horace waited for Bryn to calm himself while he looked over the second year properly for the first time.

He had dark rings under his puffy, bloodshot eyes, and his normally well-groomed ginger hair was shaken out of place, and as Horace scanned over him, he noticed how Bryn held himself; slightly hunched, and lacking the energy and pride that Battleschool apprentices usually had.

As Will stepped up to the firing line, preparing for one of the biggest days in his life, he looked over at Halt, chatting with Crowely, and he wandered,_ Am I good enough? _They were ready to take notes on his shooting, the final test Will faced. Gilan stood a little way off to the left, drinking and chatting with some other Rangers while he watched. He saw Will and smiled reassuringly, as if to say _don't worry, you'll be fine_. Will wished he could believe the same as well.

The first was quick-fire accuracy. Hard, fast, and of course accurate. The targets were dotted around the clearing, about 20 in total, they were going up and down a few at a time, trying to look confusing, but Will knew the patterns and rhythm, he let his instinct take over, he loaded an arrow from his quiver, took a deep breath, and let loose three arrows in quick succession, he went for a close target on the left, one right at the back, and one mid way on the right.

Will had felt his arm twinge in the previous tests, but it was killing him, on his last shot, he had lost his strength, his arm releasing the tension on his bow, sending his arrow awry. It was too late now.

Bryn looked up into Horace's eyes. Preparing to see hate, dread, possibly fear and suspicion; but all he found was pity. Pity and the comforting gaze of one who is on your side. Horace took a deep breath, about to ask the inevitable questions.

**Alright, don't shoot me, because you obviously want to find out the rest of what happens... I know its really short, but I wanted to leave it there, and well, yeh. Oh, and also, if anyone out there really likes Gilan angst, I'm writing a short fanfic with him in it, it might not be published for a while yet because I need to write the whole story of it pretty much, but if you want a preview, pm me, and I'll send you regular updates **** please read and review, thanks for being patient with me guys **


	6. Chapter 6

**HAH! Suckers! Though I was going to give this one up did you? Yeh? Well, you were right, until you started reviewing again, and then I couldn't leave :P Oh, and I know I'm a terrible person… It's been what? Another three months…? Woopsy… But yeh, hopefully this should be ok. I know I just put up a note saying how I was going to give up this story, but some of my responses were just too nice to ignore. Basically, you guys dissuaded me from handing it over. I know I probably ought to hand it over, it would be the nicest thing for you, but I'm selfish like that, I want the reviews! So yeh, here it goes **

Horace could see Bryn was ashamed. Ashamed that he had been unable to stand up for himself. Ashamed of what he had done to Horace and Will.

"Well… what happened?" At the worried look Horace received at that, he hurriedly added "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"Well… It started when a few hours ago…

I was just casually getting along with my morning routine, ready to start drills, and Alda wanted to go and well… bully you I guess. I hadn't wanted to hurt you in the first place. But I knew that if I didn't help, I would just get beaten up too. So I had to go along with it, but that morning, I don't know why I did it really… it was stupid. I decided enough was enough and that I was going to talk to Sir Rodney himself. It would be easy enough to get a hold of him. And I probably would have less of a punishment if I came clean. I might not be kicked out of Battleschool.

Well, anyway, I had decided to talk to Sir Rodney after lessons anyway, so I decided what the heck, I may as well just say no. It had to help my case later if I could prove I hadn't done this willingly… but Alda wasn't too happy about that, and by the time I knew where we were, we were already on our own; just Jerome, Alda and me. Well, when I announced I wouldn't be coming along to tourment you any more, Alda blew it. At first he thought it was a joke, but then he properly looked at me, and he started threatening me. He put me in a police lock, and when I didn't give in… well, my wrist snapped at the same time as him… it, it was horrible. He just started kicking and punching me. It was hopeless, and he just kept going. At first Jerome had joined in, but when I was almost unconscious, he took mercy on me. He tried to get Alda to stop. This apprenticeship was everything to Alda, and he didn't want me ruining it for him. Jerome's kindness… well, I wouldn't really call it kindess but… it earned him a broken nose, and then Alda was back on me. Then the last thing I remember is pain, and seeing his foot come at my face for the last time.

Well, I knew I couldn't exactly just go on and tell then. I knew I'd get it much worse if Alda got the opportunity to come at me again if he got expelled… He wouldn't have to hide it. So I just came here. I mean, I just felt… I just felt so weak. I mean, we're supposed to be training to be knights and soldiers, and I can't even defend myself. And that's when I found you…"

"My god… That must have been horrible…" Horace couldn't believe himself, this boy had spent so many hours torturing him, making his life miserable over the last few months, and yet here he was, sympathising with him. But then again, if Bryn was telling him the truth, and he had every reason to, then he hadn't wanted to… There was no harm in having sympathy…

"Look, we need to talk to Sir Rodney. This has gone too far now. At the very least we have to get that wrist seen to."

Bryn looked scared, but nodded anyway, using Horace for support as he got up, bruised and battered.

"Ok, are you ready?"

A slight nod.

Horace knocked on the door. "Enter." Good, Sir Rodney was there.

"Hello sir." Horace and Bryn said in unison.

"My goodness, Bryn! What happened to you?" The knight asked, concerned for his apprentice.

"Well sir, we'd like to… we'd like to well… we need to talk to you about some second years sir…"

And so they sat, telling their tales of all that Alda and Jerome had done.

Sir Rodney was mad at Bryn at first, but as soon as he heard his side of the story, h settled down, and called for Alda and Jerome to be summoned immediately.

The two second years in question were then brought in front of the knight, and given their sentence. And after some malicious looks, were sent packing, left to find their own way with another profession.

**So there we go. That's the end of that segment, it's pretty much all Will from here on out. I'm sorry it's a bit of an abrupt ending to it, but I couldn't really think of a better way to do it, other than to drag it all out unnecessarily. But yeh, I know I'm dreadful, but here you go. Oh, and please reviews, think of it as an early birthday present for me :P (Only 12 days left! :D)**


	7. Chapter 7

**So yeh, check me, I have posted a second chapter, almost immediately after the first! (well… two days**_**…**_** but hey! :P) Yeh, so this one is essentially Will the whole way through… Its mainly psychological angst… But here you go! Enjoy!**

He ran.

All he did was run and run and run. He ran until he couldn't breathe anymore; until he almost collapsed from the exhaustion.

As soon as his legs had unfrozen from the shock, Will had run. He had ignored the calls, pushed past the crowds and gone deep into the woods. All he could hear were the slightly startled cries of pain, the gasping of dying men, and the shouts for medical equipment.

It was torture. Will knew he had done this; he was the one that had fired the arrows. He was the one that wasn't safe. He shouldn't be allowed within a hundred feet of anyone. He should be shipped to some godforsaken island, forgotten by humankind, and left alone. No one should be in pain because of him. Least of all the only men he could really call a father or a brother. But they were. That simple fact remained. Gilan and Halt could, and probably would die because of Will. He had murdered them. They took him in and gave him a decent life, and he killed them in cold blood.

Will started running again, unsure of where he was going, or even where he was. It had taken them days to get to the Gathering on horseback, so how long would it take him to get back by foot? A week? Two? He had no idea. All he did was run. It was the only way he knew he wouldn't hurt anyone else. Although, knowing his luck, he would probably step on some poor harmless creature in the forest.

Will ran for hours, occasionally pausing for breath, or a five minute break to gather some supplies. When darkness fell and Will grew cold, he finally stopped for the night, making a small campfire and curling up in his Ranger cloak.

The cloak Halt had given him. And he had made the fire using the quick method Halt had taught him. He felt safe because Halt had taught him how to fight, how to look after himself, how to catch food. Halt had taught him everything. And what had he done? He had murdered him. His mentor and friend, as grumpy as the older man could be, he was definitely Will's friend.

And then there was Gilan, likely to die of infection as well… Likely to die. Because of Will. None of the other apprentices had done anything like it. No one else had betrayed the trust between mentor and apprentice. No one else had killed their friend.

Will started crying. He was not so much sad, as disappointed and angry, furious with himself. It had been a simple exercise; it should have gone by like a breeze. He had practised that same activity for hours on end, perfecting his skill. But he hadn't been perfect. If he had been perfect, he wouldn't be alone in the woods, with no idea how many days left until he got back to Castle Redmont. If he had been perfect, he would be sleeping in a warm tent, content in progressing to Ranger status. But no, he had not been perfect. It was safe to say he had failed. He had almost shot the head of the Ranger Corps for heavens' sake! Will knew he would be disowned by Halt, left to make his way in the fields, if they would let him.

He would probably be left to remedial tasks, carrying things forward and backwards, not trusted to use tools or machines. He was a danger to everyone.

**So there you go, another (short) Chapter down. Oh, and in your review (hint hint, nudge nudge) please can you tell me how much more you think I should do (ideas if you think lots :P) But yeh, now that Horace is all dealt with, I shall be introducing a new "segment" based around Halt and Gilan, and how they're getting along. (The details of how Will has murdered them both shall be in Chapter 8)**

**JaffaCake13**


	8. Chapter 8

**So yeah, 18 years after I published my last chapter, I started writing chapter 8, again. **** Enjoy, and please forgive me for the lateness. Oh, and sorry for any continuity or spelling errors, it's been far too long, and I no longer possess the books. Just one last thing, this is going to be the last chapter, and I hope you enjoyed this fic. **

***8 years later, the chapter is actually written… :L***

He approached the water's edge tentatively. His knives, bow, arrows and cloak lay neatly a way back from the water.

Taking a few hesitant steps forward, he watched his feet shuffle deeper into the icy waters of the lake. The water rippled gently as his tears dripped off his cheeks and nose, and joined the murky lake water.

Horace was summoned to talk to Sir Rodney, and he had been told that there was a Ranger to see him.

Horace walked off in the direction Sir Rodney had indicated. As he walked closer, he could see the familiar mottled cloak, and started to quicken his pace, excited to get a visit from one of his friends.

"Hello," Horace said brightly.

"Get your stuff, we're leaving. I've already asked Sir Rodney."

"What? Where are we going?"

"I don't know. Just hurry up."

Gilan had told him to hurry up, so Horace ran full pelt towards the dorms, he grabbed a blanket, his sword and shield, and jogged back to where Gilan was standing, preparing a horse for Horace to ride.

They set off at a quick pace. It was clear that Gilan knew something important that he wasn't telling Horace, but he daren't ask. Horace had learnt not to ask a gruff Ranger silly questions.

After about three days ride, they reached the Gathering and were greeted with devastating news.

Halt was not getting better.

He was already weak, and was by no means at all cooperative with the people trying to keep him alive.

Gilan didn't even bother to let Blaise stop before dismounting. He needed to see Halt, he needed to know what to do. He wouldn't let him die. He loved him like a father - more than his actual father.

Gilan ran up to the tent, careful not to get in anyone's way – the last thing he wanted now was to stop someone from helping Halt. What if he found Will? What would he do? How could he even begin to contemplate telling Horace how Halt got shot?

When Gilan had first been shot he had thought he might die. But when Will wouldn't stop running away, he knew he couldn't. And when he found out Halt had been hit twice, he knew he that he couldn't let Will go.

And so, after a day of anxious rest and recuperation, Gilan had set off back to Araluen in search of Horace.

The next day, they set off again, this time in search of Will.

Gilan had sat with Halt for hours the night before, talking and planning, and saying good bye. Both of them knew that Halt would not last much longer.

And he hadn't. Halt had died early in the morning, the bleeding had started again in the night, and no one could help him, he had lost too much blood already, and there was nothing they could do.

So Gilan had woken Horace, fetched the horses, and they had left. They left before news could travel to Horace. Gilan had wanted to tell him himself. So he did. When they were sitting down for their evening meal, waiting for the stew to cook on the fire.

Gilan didn't want Horace to know how Halt died. He just said it was an accident. That he didn't know any details. Of course he knew lying wasn't good, but right now, he and Horace had to focus on finding Will, that was the most important thing. When Will was safe, he could tell Horace the real story himself.

Horace went into shock. Not extremely so, but it was big news. He didn't think that Halt would even know the word accident; he was too careful, too organised and skilful to have ever had an accident.

They travelled hard the next day, Gilan conscious of the time. It had now been over a week since Will had fled from the Gathering. They rode in silence, occasionally slowing or stopping when Gilan needed to look closer for signs of Will's path.

Late in the afternoon, they emerged from the woods. They slowly rode down a little path on a hill, down to the shore of a large lake. They dismounted, leaving their horses to drink from the lake. They spent a couple of minutes looking, knowing that Will would have come here to drink. He may have wanted to get away, but he still needed food and water to live. When they saw that no-one was by the lake near them, they went to wash and drink themselves, joining the horses by the water. As Gilan went to bend down over the water, he noticed a ripple. Small, indistinct, of little concern. It was just the wind disturbing the surface of the lake.

But Gilan knew better than to trust logic over his gut, and his gut was telling him this was no wind on the lake. He looked up, searching and straining his eyes to see further. And there, at the farthest point around the lake, almost opposite them, was a lone little figure. He was short, and he looked sad in his drooping posture. He was nearly knee deep in the water, but most of all, he was Will.

Gilan sprang up and jumped on Blaise, moving before he was even in the saddle. They galloped around the lake, Horace riding full pelt a little way behind. It was obvious that Gilan had seen him. After a week looking for him, Gilan had finally found Will.

As he rounded the lake, Gilan could see Will becoming smaller and smaller above the surface of the water. If they didn't get there soon and stop him, it would be too late.

Gilan knew what Will was doing, but he didn't dare speak, didn't dare think it. If he thought it, he knew he would be convinced of what was happening, if he didn't think about it, he could kid himself that Will was merely bathing. _In all his clothes._

Will was nearly there. He was up to his chin now. It wouldn't be much longer. Not much longer till he couldn't hurt anyone any more. They would be safe from him when he was gone. He had killed them both. The only people he had ever loved. Halt, the man that was almost his father. Gilan, practically his brother.

Horace would hate him if he went back. The entire Ranger Corps would hate him. Crowley would never let him become one of the King's Rangers. And Duncan himself would probably have him killed after trial.

He was simply saving them all the trouble.

He was almost up to his nose. He was close now, he could feel his breath bubbling the water into his face. Will took another step. He was submerged up to his eyes. The lake was quite deep. He had to have at least enough depth to go fully under. As his vision started to fade and blacken around the edges, and his lungs slowly starting to burn as they filled with water, Will had the vague idea that there was someone coming. No doubt to scream and cry, blame him and call him a murderer. Will did this enough himself.

For eight days Will had run. He ran every day. All day. Now he had stopped and now he could run no more.

He was sure he heard a shout this time, but he was falling, falling and drowning, and he tried to breathe, and only water flooded his lungs. And he was so sorry. So sorry for everything. To Halt, for killing him, and Gilan also. To Crowley and Duncan for taking away their best Ranger. To all the Rangers, for being such a disgrace. He was sorry, and this was him apologising.

Horace dismounted quickly, almost falling over in his haste. He could see Gilna standing by the shore, frozen in place. Then when Horace went to talk, it was as if he had been unfrozen, as Gilan almost dove into the water. Swimming out as fast as he could. He stopped, diving downwards into the lake, and when he came back up, he had a limp form with him.

Gilan stood on the bottom of the lake, being taller than Will, his head was above the water still this far out. But even when he held Will's limp and lifeless body in his arms, his face was dripping. He was dripping tears into the lake, causing small ripples to emanate away from him.

Just like Will's tears had as he had been shuffling to his death.

**THE END****. I hope you liked it, and yeah, enjoy your life. Good bye.**


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